


Silar and Tes

by CarenRose older stuff (CarenRose)



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Romance, Awkward Romance, Empathic Vulcans, Everyday Vulcans, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Panic Attacks, Vulcan spies, unlikely to finish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarenRose/pseuds/CarenRose%20older%20stuff
Summary: An architect and a spy ... make a cute couple. He's head over heels for her (as much as a Vulcan can be). She's got a haunted past.This story is archived from Fanfiction.Net. It is unfinished and I am unlikely to continue working on it.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	1. Silar & Tes

**Author's Note:**

> Original author's note:  
> Yeah, I'm also gonna dedicate this chapter to Fameanon. Because she read over this for me once :D Yay for awesome people!

It was not a limp, precisely, moreso it was stiffness in gait that belied her injury. And every now and then, she found herself struggling to take a breath, too-familiar pain and heaviness in her chest. Her scars had faded from pale green to white. She did not have to see the healers any longer, they believed her physical and mental recovery nearly complete. Yet still they had assured her, it was normal there would be nights the memories would not let her rest, and with time, this would pass.

Tes came to the V'Shar just discharged from the Vulcan Defense Force, the details of how she had sustained her various injuries still classified. She had been an intelligence officer for years, and the V'Shar considered her experience more important than her physical condition.

The healers approved her return to work, and believed it beneficial to her continued recovery. After the initial records checks came up clear, she was rapidly accepted into the V'Shar Academy.

There, as everywhere else, she faced prejudice for her chosen adherence to Tu-Nirak, and thus, her "incomplete" suppression of emotion. While the philosophy was generally accepted as valid and she was certainly not a _vre'kasht_ , one who chose a life of reckless lack of control, it took time for the instructors and her fellow trainees to accept that she was competent. Little did they realize how much she did suppress, how many hours of meditation she spent then, and the dreams that still fractured her sleep.

It rained for some part of 94% of the days she spent there. The local climate's similarity to Romulus was not lost on most. For Tes, the humidity, the tightness in her chest, the shortness of breath, reminded her that had she chosen the V'Shar years ago, had she been sent to Romulus instead, none of it would have happened.

Her training at the academy was interrupted, during a hand-to-hand combat proficiency test, when a sparring partner struck her injured right knee. Whether truly an accident or not, the impact tore ligaments that were not fully healed, and rendered her unable to walk again for several days.

Still, this was not considered too great a liability, and upon completion of her training, she was stationed in Vulcana Regar in an import/export business - a front organization - near the V'Shar Headquarters.

Also living there in Vulcana Regar was a young architect, Silar, to whom Tes had been bonded when they were children.

* * *

It was late afternoon, and Silar stood at his desk, reviewing a small holo-projection of his project before the meeting where he would present it to his client.

It was his last task of the day before he planned to return home for the evening, and he found himself wishing the meeting did not have to take place. He looked around at his office, realizing how much it had accumulated a level of disarray as the week had gone on.

He realized that, although this was far from the first meeting with this client, it might be beneficial to straighten things up a bit.

He was hardly halfway through the task when his desk-comm chimed. It was the building receptionist, alerting him to the presence of a potential client in the lobby, for an entirely unscheduled meeting.

"Send them up," Silar had told him. Curious, few clients, Vulcan or otherwise, came here without an appointment. They knew he was frequently out of his office.

His door opened and he found a woman standing before him. She was short, with curly hair.

Something about her was very familiar. The intense blue eyes. And, the urge to touch ... Touching, yet not touching; apart, yet never apart ...

"Tes?"

"Yes, Silar. It's me."

Suddenly at a loss for words despite himself, Silar stepped back and surveyed her appearance. He had not seen her since the _kan-telan_. She had become quite ... pleasing aesthetically since then.

He cleared his throat roughly. "Why are you here?"

"I live in Vulcana Regar now."

He motioned for her to take a seat, and sat down himself. Belatedly, he remembered he did have an appointment with a client scheduled in less than twenty minutes.

* * *

She had agreed to wait for him out there in the lobby. Now, as he approached, she looked up at him and - curiously - smiled. He raised an eyebrow.

"I would like to go someplace to eat together, if you have time," she said, "but I confess I am not yet familiar with the local establishments. Do you have any recommendations?"

"There is a place nearby - a man named Malok owns it. I have found the food agreeable."

"Good," she said simply, rising to her feet. "When is your next appointment?"

"I have no further obligations for the day."

She smiled again, a smile that reached her eyes. She was of House Thelai - he recalled that several in her family had chosen to follow _Tu-Jarok_ or _Tu-Nirak_ , it was probable that she had become one of those who did. In theory, he did not take issue with this, the philosophies were those of Surak's first students. But he still wondered if difficulties would arise once they had been fully bonded.

Her voice broke him from his thoughts. "I do not know the way, Silar. Instead of staring at me, let's go."

He nodded. He held the lobby door open for her, a gesture of courtesy he had learned from some human clients, and they exited onto the street.

The way she walked caught his notice, indicating pain or structural weakness on her right side.

He stopped her, lightly placing his hand on her arm. He realized he would have preferred to take her hand, to press his fingers to hers. "Are you injured?" he asked.

Her expression remained well controlled, but a darkness came over her eyes. She said nothing.

"You must tell me, Tes," he said, more intensity creeping into his voice than he intended. "Are you in pain?"

Again, she did not answer, this time softly removing his hand from her arm.

"Tes!" He turned and grabbed her by the shoulders, staring into her eyes. "Tell me."

"It is something I do not wish to speak about. Now remove your hands from me, we are in public."

He let his hands fall back to his sides and fought a surge of embarrassment. She was right, they were in public, he should not be acting like this.

He stepped from her path and they began walking again. Her refusal to answer his questions was as good as affirmative, and he found this troubled him deeply. She was injured. She was in pain.

Though he knew they only had a base bond, he tried to access it anyway. Even with her physically nearby, though, he still could sense no more than just that, a base bond.

A series of raspy coughs caught his attention. "Silar ..." she clutched at her chest, trying to stop the coughing. "Slow down."

"You are not well, Tes!" He stopped her again, standing in front of her but trying to keep himself from touching her this time. She bent over, bracing hands on thighs, trying to take deep breaths.

It brought to recall, eight months ago ...

He had been drawing plans when he began to feel strange. Almost ill. It was unusual for an illness to come on so suddenly, but he put it aside and continued working. For several weeks he continued to feel mildly fatigued, but could not determine why. One evening, as he was meditating, a heaviness came over his chest, and he found himself gasping for breath. The feeling mostly passed within twenty minutes, but he had been concerned enough to schedule an appointment to see a doctor in the morning. The doctor found nothing wrong, and the lingering pressure had entirely disappeared by the following evening.

He had not realized it until now. It was Tes. The bond. But if he could not feel anything here, now, how much greater did her pain have to be then?

A part of him growled in anger. Who did this to her? They had hurt her! When he got his hands on whoever had done this to his _telsu_ ...

Tes called his name quietly, voice raspy. "What is, is, Silar. Nothing you can do will change the past."

... he would break their neck! No, no, even that would be too merciful. They had made her suffer. He would ...

"Silar!"

He unclenched his fists, unaware they had been that way in the first place.

"Come, let's go eat."

* * *

Tes knew Malok, and had worked with him recently, though she never said word of it to Silar. She had not suggested they eat at his restaurant, that idea was entirely Silar's. He was apparently quite impressed by the place, and wanted to keep returning there.

Tes had met Malok her first day in Vulcana Regar. He was a former V'Shar agent, retired but still contracting with them, orienting newcomers like her to the area. As a restaurant owner, he had knowledge and contacts, and certain social skills many young Vulcans often struggled with.

Silar still did not know nearly as much about her as he thought.

She knew he would need to be informed of several things before their bonding. As it was now, he had not indicated he knew anything of her true profession. She had planned that, and planned to tell him what he needed to know just shortly before they were fully bonded. It was an acceptable solution, one she had thought quite adequate for years.

Except that she had assumed their bonding would come only once the _pon farr_ had begun.

She hadn't exactly factored in living near each other, spending time together, and ... finding themselves drawn to each other.

And thus that they may end up bonding sooner than she expected.

They spent much time together, now. At first they had met at Malok's restaurant once every four days, but they had gradually come to meet there every day. Tes began to come to Silar's office, on days when she had finished working but he had not. She quickly came to find their times together enjoyable, and to find Silar agreeable in personality and in appearance.

He was definitely attracted to her, she could feel as much from him. He enjoyed their time together as well, though he would never say it, and tried to suppress it.

Malok showed up at her workplace one day, asking if Silar was her _telsu_. If he was not, he warned her, she was getting too dangerously involved with him. Not only did he spend a great deal of time with her, and apparently had gained her attraction, but Malok believed he may have been slowly working to extract information from her.

She had just laughed, a response met with a raised eyebrow and tilted head. "I am not careless, Malok," she had said. "He has been watched, monitored, subjected to various background tests, since before we were bonded as children. He is trustworthy."

Their bond had been well chosen, of that much she was sure.


	2. Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tes attempts to make her desires known, but Silar accidentally hits a raw nerve.

"I brought you something."

Silar looked up from his work to see Tes standing in front of his drafting table, holding something in a small paper bag.

She wrinkled the bag. "Where can I put this?"

"I did not think you were coming today. What is in the bag?"

"Something I found today. I thought you would like it."

He furrowed his brow. "What is it?"

"Something that you will like."

He put down his pencil and stood up. "I see."

She smiled at him, that peculiar smile that she showed so often when they were together. "Do you have a replicator here?"

He shook his head. "No, but we have a small kitchen. Will that suffice?"

"It should. Can you show me where it is?"

He glanced back at the drafting table. "Come with me."

She followed him through the hall to the tiny kitchen, limping behind him. He was concerned that she was not able to keep up with his pace today, but every time he slowed, so did she.

Finally, she asked, "Why do you keep slowing down, Silar?"

"You are walking behind me. I thought you ... were having trouble."

"I cannot walk behind you?"

"I ... you can, but I will slow down for you if you wish ... " He looked down at the ground, at the distance between them. Even throughout all his slightly erratic speed changes during their short walk, he realized she had kept this distance constant. He looked up again and met her eyes, taking short strides towards her, approximately the length of hers. Three steps. He fought a sudden surge of pride. "Yes, you may walk there, Tes. I apologize, I did not realize ... the reason. You have not done this before."

"We have not walked together often."

He nodded. A few more steps, and they reached the kitchen door.

He turned again, and she raised both eyebrows. "Are we going to enter?"

"Of course," he nodded and fought back embarrassment, opening the door. "We have a stasis unit, a rewarmer, a sink. Will that suffice?"

"Does the sink have water?"

"Yes, and a small sonic washer."

"Are there dishes of any sort? And a table?"

"There are a few dishes in those cabinets." He pointed. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes. Are you?"

He thought for a moment. "Yes, I believe I am. I have not given it much thought." Something like panic suddenly struck him. "I ... I did not mean to neglect your needs, Tes. I could have rescheduled my meeting with my client and we could have gone to Malok's like usual. I did not mean to ..."

"Would you like to know what is in the bag?"

He had forgotten about the bag. "Yes."

She set her package down on the small counterspace, and pulled a container from it. It contained an emerald-green substance, slightly textured, with a disconcerting resemblance to coagulating blood.

"What is that?"

"Ratamba stew. It's Bajoran." She pulled out another package, something wrapped in plastic and white paper, and set it on top of the container of ... stew.

"Is it edible?"

"Yes, and it tastes good, too." She reached up into the cabinets and retrieved bowls and drinking glasses.

"It does not look good, nor edible."

She shook her head. "Do you have utensils?"

He opened a drawer. "It looks ... like blood. Are you sure it is edible?"

"Yes, Silar. It is a Bajoran dish, and would not have such connotations to them. I can assure you it contains nothing undesirable." She began unwrapping the other package, the one wrapped in plastic and white paper. A strong, but agreeable smell of savory herbs filled the room.

"What is that? It has an agreeable scent."

She showed him one of the small things, a pale bread with green flecks.

" _Krei'la_?"

"Droli. Also Bajoran." She split the strange green stew evenly between two bowls and placed three of the small biscuits on top of each.

"Where did you get these?"

"Here, in Vulcana Regar. There is a small restaurant on Khu'rak Street that is owned by Bajorans." She retrieved two glasses from the cabinets and filled them both with water from the sink. "Is there a table where we may eat?"

"The desk in my office is adequate for that purpose."

He grabbed the two bowls, and Tes followed him out of the little kitchen up to his office.

* * *

Silar set the two bowls down on his desk, clearing away the few PADDs that cluttered the surface. She watched him eye the stew warily, before sitting down and motioning for her to do the same.

She did not sit down, but ensured she had his attention as she set down one glass in front of her bowl, and took a long drink from the other.

Silar's attention drifted back to the stew in front of him, and he slowly reached for the glass she had set beside her own bowl.

Tes reached over the desk and grabbed his hand, stopping it. He looked up at her, shocked at the touch. " _This_ is your glass, Silar," she said, holding out the glass she had drank from.

"Oh," he replied, as if remembering something forgotten. He truly was slow to notice some things, she thought.

As realization dawned, his eyes grew wide. He took the offered glass and drank it quickly, never breaking eye contact with her. Still, he seemed confused.

"You are already my _telsu_ ," he said. "Why have you done this?"

"To ensure that you know I am yours. That I want you. That I have chosen you."

He swallowed slowly, not saying anything, keeping his eyes glued on her as she sat down and began to eat.

"What do you think of the stew, Silar?"

He raised an eyebrow. He still had not tried it.

"At least eat a _droli_."

He did. "This is an agreeable food."

"Try the stew."

He did, still staring at her, willing to do anything she asked of him at the moment.

"What do you think?"

"You have chosen me?"

"Have I not sought you out, spent a great deal of my time with you, Silar?"

He nodded. "I didn't think ..."

"What?"

"I ... I don't know. I didn't think you would ... have chosen me ... if you had the chance. Being bonded, as children ... not everyone in my family does that. I heard ... stories ... as a child, about being rejected ... left ... to die, when ..." Waves of fear, of insecurity, were practically rolling off of him.

She took his hand again, pressing the pads of their fingers together. "I will never leave you, Silar. I will not reject you."

At that, he lurched forward, pressing one finger to the freckle above her right eyebrow. She could sense his struggle to keep his hands from moving downward to initiate a meld ... or complete their bond. So he just sat, frozen, leaning towards her like that with a single finger on her face, breathing heavily.

She smiled slightly. "What are you doing, Silar?"

"I ... I am ... not sure." His fingers began to drift downwards, closer to the meld points.

"Silar ..."

He tore his hands away.

She reached again for his wrist, fingers working towards his palm. "You don't have to stop."

"I do, Tes. I have clients. Clients, that will be here soon. If we had continued ... I do not know if ... we would have ... I would be free to ..." His other hand found its way upward, seemingly of its own volition, and he began caressing her jaw. "You try my control, Tes."

"I know."

A low growl escaped his throat as his fingers found her earlobe and began to work upwards towards the tip.

She smiled. As he slowly traced up the outer edge of her ear, making small circular motions, she did the same to the palm of his other hand. He breathed in sharply, eyes closed.

He stopped, eyes snapping open again, and ran his finger along the uneven scar near the tip of her ear. "What happened, Tes?"

She slowly let out a breath. "It is something I do not wish to speak of."

He freed his other hand from hers and reached for her other ear, finding the same scar there. "You have said that before ... about ... your difficulty breathing. Why will you not tell me? Who did these things to you?"

"It was a painful time, Silar," she said solemnly.

"I felt your pain, through our bond."

Her eyes widened. They only had a base bond. "I ... did not mean for that to happen. I mean ... " The words she wanted to say just would not come to her. "I mean, I didn't know that it could. I apologize." She took a deep breath. "You should have been kept from that. It was ... it was ..."

"You must have been subjected to a great deal of pain."

She nodded, and swallowed. "I was."

"Are there more injuries?"

"Minor things. Scars. Healed ... "

"Why, Tes? Why would someone injure you?"

"I said, I do not wish to speak of it."

"Tes ..." She could feel his anger building, seeping through his control.

"Why are you angry?"

He visibly twitched. "How ..." He looked down at their hands, which were no longer touching.

"I have some empathic ability."

"Oh." He sighed and took several deep breaths, attempting to center himself. "I am not angry at you, Tes. It is ... whoever would harm you in this manner ... " His anger flared again, but he reached over and took her hand. "Please, tell me. I am your telsu. You can ... why will you not speak of it?"

She took a breath, attempted to speak, and found she could not.

"Tes?"

"I ... I cannot."

"Are you still in danger?"

"No."

"Why can you not speak of it?"

"It is ... difficult."  _It should not be, not this difficult,_ she thought. It had been eight months. She  _could_ control this. She had to.

He waited, still holding her hand.

"I still cannot separate ... discussing and ... and talking about it ... from ... " She inhaled deeply. "From the experience. From experiencing it again. I mean ... " Another breath. "I ... I was tortured, Silar. I ..."

She did not need her empathic skills to see his control break. He was shocked, angry, he truly had not concluded that for himself. "How long ... were you ... " He breathed heavily.

How long? She hadn't known at the time. Only from reports, later on. "Nineteen days."

In a moment he was up, his chair falling to the floor. The stew sloshed onto his desk. He clenched his fists, then grabbed her by the shoulders. "Who? Who did this?" He gripped her tighter, fire blazing in his eyes. "Tell me, Tes, so I may kill them!  _No one_ will harm you like that and live!"

"They ... they are already dead. It's ... it's over. It's over."

"Who killed them?"

"I cannot say."

"That was  _my_ duty! I should have been the one to kill them! You are mine, Tes! Mine! And I will avenge you!"

"Silar, they would have killed  _you_ before you could get within fifty meters of them. You would not have stood a chance."

He suddenly lifted her up from her chair into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest and stroking her hair with one hand. He still had not regained his control, and he had seemed to have given up trying. Still, she found his embrace comforting, the brush of his mind against hers as his fingers trailed her scalp to be welcome.

"I will not allow harm to come to you again." He set her down on the desk and lifted his hand to her face, pulling her towards his touch.

And then he was there, in her mind, the fire and the chaos of the unrestrained Vulcan mind, pulling her down with him toward places she had not willingly been in many months.

_Silar, don't._

He pulled back.

_I can't ... There are too many things that have not healed yet. Maybe ... someday ..._

She was hit with an almost overwhelming sense of shame, not her own, and suddenly the meld had broken, surroundings becoming clear again.

Silar sank down into one of the chairs, burying his face in hands. "I apologize," he choked out, voice thick. "I should not have done that. I should not have ... I apologize. I should not have initiated a meld in such a ... state. I apologize. Tes ..." He stood quickly. "I cannot stay here. I need time ... to meditate ... "

Against rationality, she reached out and stopped him from leaving.

Within seconds, she found herself standing up, back pushed to the wall, his body pressed to hers, his hands pulling at her collar, his mouth searching her neck to mark her. Fire surged through her veins, her own and his, as his hand reached for her face again and he bit down along her collarbone.

But Silar jumped back, as if painfully shocked, wiping her blood from his lip. He stared down at the green streaks on his fingers with wide eyes, then turned, and fled.


	3. Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tes has a flashback and fights her emotions. Silar freaks out, convinced he's done something unthinkable.

She slowly slid down the wall to the floor, listening to the receding footsteps in the hall.

Receding ... or coming, another beating ...

No, no ... that was not now. She focused on things in front of her. The lines of Silar's desk. The chair, knocked over. Stew, unfinished, dripping to the floor.

Lt. T'Min, wrists bound, drug in by her hair, unconscious.

_No!_ She rocked forward, grabbing the desk for support.

A hand, pulling her head back by her hair. Intent to kill. Something ... clasped over her mouth, held there, forced to breathe ...

Tes fell back to the floor. Cold, hard concrete ... eyes, burning, burning ... can't ... breathe ...

_No!!_ Control. She fought for control. She gasped for breath, clutching her chest. Couldn't get enough air.

Blood bubbled up at the back of her throat ...

_Logic! Control ... I ... must ... have ... control ..._

She forced her eyes to open. Hyperventilating. She was hyperventilating. She was not going to die, now. Slow, controlled breaths ...

Their ship, lights flickering. Disruptor being held to her temple. Major Sotek, face placid, mind full of fear and anger.

_Logic is the cornerstone of ..._

Arms and legs bound onto a table. Head held down, to one side. A man with curiosity and a knife. Touching her ears, cutting ...

_... is the cornerstone ..._

She pulled herself up onto her knees, gripping the edge of the desk for support.

How could Silar leave her here like this?

She stood, heart still pounding, fists clenched.

How could he do this, press her for so much information, and just run away?

_You have deserted me!_

She grabbed the nearest object on his desk and hurled it at the wall.

Glass shattered.

Tes screamed. Angry, blinded by her anger, her hands sought out whatever was in reach, throwing, shoving, tearing.

_No! No! Stop! Stop yourself, Tes! You cannot do this! Control!_

She forced herself to stop, nails digging into her palms, arms shaking as she struggled against herself. Panic still gripped her.

_Logic ... is the cornerstone ... not ... emotion._

_How dare he run from me!_

Tes stopped. She had heard - or rather, sensed - the presence of someone approaching, attention turned towards her.

_Run._

Tes stumbled over the chair. They were coming closer.

_Run!_

The tightness in her chest was returning. She didn't know where she was going or what she was running from.

The door slid open and she staggered out into the hall. Her heart was pounding and every second it was getting harder to breathe.

_Get away. Just get away._

Unbidden, images flashed through her mind. The hall. Doors. The room where they were interrogated ... tortured. Streaks of green blood. One light that flickered and hung low. The table. Ropes, used to bind, not there anymore. The knife, is gone, too.

_No, no, no, not this,_ she pleaded with her own mind.  _No, not again!_

Hands. Her hands are bound. Holding her down. They know her strength.

He grabs her hair. Fingers, touching, and she can't block. Plan, intent, she will die.

_No! Not this ... Stop!_

Hair held tighter. She jerks her head to the side.  _Get away!_

He brings something towards her face, and her eyes burn.  _Get away!_

She screams.

Breathing ... burns.

Something ... still held to her mouth, nose. She can't see it. Her eyes burn, swollen shut.

Everything is pain ...

Cold, but sweating, need water ...

Drowning ...

Every breath, searing pain.

Blood, coughing, lungs bleeding. Raspy, squeaking breaths.

Tes fell back against the wall, pressing her hands out to her sides. She was vaguely aware that there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

He is yelling, incoherent, near her face. "Answer!"

Her chest, throat, burns, to breathe in.

" _T'sai_ , are you well?"

Tes opened her eyes.

" _T'sai_ , can you hear me?"

Questions, so many, no answers. Raspy, squeaking breaths. The pain never stops. "Can't ... breathe ..."

"I will get medical attention. You should sit down."

"No ..." She gasped, coughing several times. "Can't ... they ... I ..."

"Don't try to talk, _t'sai_. Just stay here."

"No ... I ..." Her gasping breaths turned into half-sobbing. "They ... trying ... to kill me ..."

"Who? Who is trying to kill you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, only to be assaulted by memories again.

"No ... not ... now. I can't ...  stop this ..."

"Is someone trying to kill you?"

"Not ... now. I just want it to  stop !"

"What to  stop ? Are you injured?"

She absently rubbed one of the scars on her forearm. "Can't ... breathe ... they ... they forced me to ... to breathe ... it burns ..."

"Burns? Can you take slow, deep breaths?"

"I can't ... make it  stop ..."

"Make what  stop ?"

"They ... they were ... trying to ... to kill us ..."

"When did this happen? _T'sai_ , are you in danger right now? Are you injured?"

"Pain ... " 

"You are in pain? Where?"

She nodded. "I can't breathe," she managed to  force out .

"You are hyperventilating. Are you injured, or ill, or in danger?"

Deep, racking coughs shook her body until her vision began to darken. She forced herself to take one ragged breath, another, competing with the pain, the tightness in her chest, choking.

"Please sit down," she said urgently.

Tes managed to shake her head and take several more breaths, each marginally easier than the previous.

"Stay here now. I will get you  medical attention ."

"No!" She shook her head, crossing her arms tightly around herself, still trying to stop the coughing.

"I believe you need  medical attention , _t'sai_. You do not appear well."

"No! I said  _no!_ "

She took a small step back away from Tes.

She took a few more breaths, but they did nothing to calm her. "You will speak of this to no one!"

"Of course, _t'sai_." The woman nodded. "I understand."

Tes hung her head. "I - I apologize." She took several slow breaths, as deeply as she could without coughing again. "I have lost control."

The other woman held her hands up. "There is no need. All is silence."

"I probably should clean up," she mumbled, mostly to herself.

"Clean up?" For whatever reason, she eyed Tes somewhat suspiciously.

"I ... Silar's office."

"You can hardly breathe, are you sure ..." She paused, wondering whether it would be proper to ask her question. "May I ask, are you Silar's mate?"

"I am."

"I see. You are the one who smiles." It was not quite an accusation.

"Not often," she replied, more defensively than intended. "I follow _Tu-Nirak_."

"I see. You do not have to stay here and clean the office. We will handle that."

"It has been ... quite some time since I have lost control like this. This is not normal. I do not allow myself to do ... this."

"I only said that because we employ a man specifically to clean here. That is his job. You are not required to clean."

"No, I have created chaos, I should be the one to restore order."

"I understand."

"May I request of you - or of him - something to sweep with?"

The woman nodded, then paused. "Do you require assistance?"

"I do not."

"I am not judging you, _t'sai_."

"I should be alone. I need to restore order."

She nodded again. "I will get you a broom, then." But she stopped, debating. "Forgive me, _t'sai_ , but as one of the secretaries, it would help to know. Will Silar be ... returning ... to work, tomorrow?"

"I do not know. I assume he would."

"You ... assume? May I ask another personal question?"

"I suppose."

"Did he harm you?"

"No!"

"He did not ... Are you ... ?"

"What?"

"I ask forgiveness. I should not ask this."

"Ask what?"

"No. I believe I have come to a faulty conclusion."

"What might that conclusion be?"

"That ... perhaps is best left unspoken."

"Oh, I ... see. No, that is not the reason for this." Her face fell. "I ... have simply lost control."

"I did not think that  _your_ ... emotional state ... was necessarily a result of ...  _that_ . Though it would ... fit. Not that ..."

"Then what was it that brought you to that conclusion?"

She looked away, motioning to her own collar, unable to meet Tes's eyes.

Tes looked down and felt her ears and face flush. Her collar was still open, askew, with Silar's mark clearly visible.

"Silar seemed to be ... off-balance, when he left. It was very uncharacteristic of him."

"I see. Exactly what conclusion had you formed? Why did you ask if he had harmed me?"

" _T'sai_ , I do not think ... It was obviously flawed."

Tes's anger flared up. "I want to know what you thought!"

The secretary flinched.

"I apologize. I did not mean that." She sighed. "I am obviously in need of meditation."

She held up her hands, declining to comment. "I had thought perhaps Silar tried to harm you, when you did not ... give in, to his ... to him. Or worse, that he may have ... have forced himself on you." She shook her head, then quickly continued, "But that was clearly wrong."

"Clearly! No, he will not do  _anything_ unless provoked!"

The secretary quirked an eyebrow, her gaze drifting to Tes's exposed shoulder.

"I ... perhaps ... have said too much." She sighed. "Do not let this change your thoughts about him."

"It will not. What happens between bondmates is not my concern."

Tes nodded. "I need to be alone now."

"Of course, _t'sai_." She paused. "You will find whatever supplies you need to clean in the closet at the end of this hall."

* * *

Silar fumbled with the lock on his aircar.

_What have I done?_

His entry card clattered to the ground, and he stared down at his shaking hands.

_What have I done?!_

He could still taste her blood.

_What have I_ become?

The door finally unlocked, and he sank down into his seat.

_Kae'at k'lasa._ He had lost control. He had lost control and done the unthinkable. He had mind-raped his telsu. His  _ashayam_ ...

_You cannot call her that anymore! You have_ lost  _that right!_

When she had needed him most ...

_What have I done ... What have I done?!_

He leaned his head forward onto the control panel.

Would he have forced a bond on her, too? 

He had marked her ... and was only moments away from bonding with her.

What kind of a man was he, to force himself upon her  _twice_ like that?

He hoped she would not go to the authorities, but even if she did he knew he deserved it for such an act.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Partial chapter - never finished.
> 
> What happened to Tes?
> 
> CW: medical description of injuries.

**CLASSIFIED: Medical Casualty Report, Operation _______**

**Update: Stardate 71374.2  
** **by Dr. Tarik, Major, Medical Officer, _** **ship** **__**

Casualty report for Majors Sotek and Tes, Captain Lenak, and Lieutenant T'Min. 

Time in captivity: nineteen days. All four patients are currently in serious or fair condition, all are improving at an acceptable rate.

_ Captain Lenak. _

Current Status: Still receiving blood transfusions, intravenous fluids and nutrition. Current average blood pressure hypotensive at 48/19, appropriately tachycardic at 279 bpm average, respiratory rate normal.

Presentation: At time of extraction, he presented with signs of prolonged and possibly severe dehydration, including cracked, bleeding lips and skin. The patient was hypovolemic, hypotensive, tachycardic, and showed laryngeal trauma and ligature marks on neck consistent with a strangulation attempt, but has not shown signs of permanent hypoxic brain damage. The patient exhibited partially healed bilateral incised wounds of the auricular cartilage, at the approximate position of the helix of a non-vulcanoid ear. Additional injuries included seven fractured ribs, contusions from binding of the wrists and ankles, scrotal hematoma, multiple lacerations and avulsions of the skin on the back.

_ Major Tes. _

Current Status: Increased respiration rate, shallow breaths, dyspnea, continued hemoptysis and bronchitis. Successful removal from mechanical ventilator, airway swelling no longer a primary concern. All other vital signs acceptable.

Presentation: Patient presented in second (compensatory) stage of hypovolemic shock, secondary to pulmonary hemorrhage, caused by forced inhalation of a caustic substance. Associated chemical burns to the face, eyes, blistering of the oral and nasal mucosa, and upper and lower airway. She exhibited the same auricular incision pattern as Capt. Lenak and Lt. T'Min. Additional injuries included fracture of the right zygomatic bone, ligature marks on wrists, lacerations to the arms and back, some infected, and a ruptured right anterior cruciate ligament, medial collateral ligament, and torn medial meniscus.

_ Lieutenant T'Min. _

Current Status: Decreased level of consciousness, opens eyes and exerts purposeful movement to painful stimuli but not to sound, incomprehensible vocalizations. Vital signs within acceptable range. 

Presentation: Presented with moderate dehydration, moderate-to-severe traumatic brain injury, depressed fracture of right parietal bone with associated epidural hematoma, an irregular 5 cm diameter depilated area of scalp, auricular incisions as in the other two patients, and contusions from a ligature used to bind the wrists.

_ Major Sotek. _

Current Status: All vital signs currently within acceptable range. Continued numbness in both arms.

Presentation: At time of extraction, he presented with moderate dehydration, linear fracture of the left temporal bone, minor concussion, open nasal bone fracture, multiple contusions and lacerations of the face, bilateral anterior dislocations of the shoulders and deep abrasions on the wrists from being suspended in air by the arms, ligature marks on the ankles, fractures of the right fifth, sixth, and seventh ribs, and multiple lacerations on the back, torso, and legs, many infected.

* * *

The shuttle, cloaked, circled the complex slowly.

"Have you located the shield generator, Sublieutenant Solas?"

"Yes, _Osu_ , we are approaching it now."

"Can you determine the modulation frequency?"

"Yes, _Osu_. It is 293 megahertz. Non-rotating frequency."

"Lieutenant V'Ken, remodulate our shields to match. Maintain cloak."

"Shields are remodulated, _Osu_."

"Sublieutenant, bring us in at 37 degrees from ground. Level off once our shields have disengaged from the complex's shield."

The shuttle slowly slid into the complex's bubble.

"Scan the complex for Vulcan life-signs, passive scan."

"Four Vulcan life-signs, _Osu_."

"Can you determine the location of the transport inhibitor?"

"Yes, _Osu_. I have."

"Backup systems?"

"Unknown, _Osu_."

"Continue scan. I need a layout of the interior, schematic of transport inhibitor backup systems, and locations of all life-signs inside. Display on main viewer."

A few seconds later, a map of the complex appeared. "Backup transport inhibitor system located six meters west of primary, _Osu_. We are within range of both."

"Doctor Tarik, are you prepared to receive patients?"

"I am."

"Recovery teams, assemble at the transporter pad."

Twelve Vulcans, crammed together at the rear of the large shuttle, stood and arranged into their teams.

"Lieutenant V'Ken," he said, pointing at the map, an orange dot appearing each place he pointed to. "The teams will transport here, here, here, here, and here. Sublieutenant Solas will disable the transport inhibitor, you will beam all five teams down within sixty seconds."

"Ready, _Osu_."

"Sublieutenant. Fire."

Two phaser beams shot out from the cloaked shuttle, precisely disabling their targets.


	5. Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another unfinished chapter!
> 
> Silar is ashamed of what he believes he's done. Tes attempts to explain he's done nothing wrong.

"Have ... have I caused you harm, Tes?"

"No, Silar. You have not."

"I must apologize for my actions."

"Why?"

"I have ... I lost control, Tes. That was unacceptable."

"It was not."

"What ... what do you mean? I have ... I could have harmed you. I have ... I ... intruded ..." He sighed, running hands through his hair. "Tes, I ... I forced a meld on you. There is no excuse for what I have done. I ... I have violated your mind."

Her eyes widened. "No, Silar! You did no such thing!"

"I did." His face fell in shame.

She stepped forward and grabbed his hands. "Silar, you did not. Perhaps the meld was ill-advised, but my mental shields are not nearly so weak as you must believe. I allowed you access, and when you attempted to push farther than I was comfortable, you willingly retreated. I do not see what is wrong here."

"I did not ... But ... I could have harmed you."

"I doubt that."

"Tes, how do you not understand the danger of someone losing control like that? Especially an unbonded man like myself, lacking the ... centering that a full bond gives ... "

" I am your _telsu_ , Silar.  What danger do you believe you present to me?"

"I could have harmed you, Tes. As it was, I forced ... I attempted a meld that was ... ill-advised."

"Yes, you melded with me. Which I have already explained caused no harm. Do you not realize, Silar, what you  _did_ do?"

His eyes widened. "What did I do?"

"You held me in your arms, Silar. You ... you comforted me. But yet you sit here insisting that you would have harmed me."

"I ..." He paused. "I threatened to take a life. I intended ... I  _desired_ to kill." His face fell. "That is not acceptable."

"You would not kill for me?"

"I ... I would. And that is unacceptable."

"Is it? Then what is the purpose of the _kali-fi_?"

He shifted in his seat, having become uncomfortable with the conversation. "To ... to win a mate."

"How? What is it a test of?"

He thought for a moment. "Skill? Strength?" He considered himself neither skilled nor strong, nor even particularly physically adept.

"Dedication."

"I ..."

"How do you not know this?"

"I suppose I have not given it much thought. You will not challenge, will you?"

"Never."

He exhaled slowly, relieved. "It still remains unacceptable that I allowed myself to lose control and to entertain such desires." Under his breath, he added, "And to risk harming you."

"All I am trying to convey is that your actions, though emotionally motivated, were not unexpected nor unacceptable and do not call for this level of shame. I understand that your disciplines momentarily failed you, and that may be regrettable, but it is also now in the past and cannot be changed."

He thought about this for a moment. "You are saying, ' _What is, is._ '"

"Yes. And, I believe, _'The cause was sufficient._ '"

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you did not follow _Tu-Surak_."

"That does not mean I am not familiar with his sayings, Silar. Nirak was one of his first students."

He nodded and turned away.

"I also lost some ... level of control that day."

"You did?"

"Yes." She paused, then quietly added, "I tore apart your office."

"I did not know this."

"Please do not blame yourself for this. That is why I did not wish to tell you."

"But you are well now? There are no ... lasting effects?"

"From my loss of control?"

"From my actions."

"I said, do not blame yourself, Silar. The cause was ... what ... occurred, eight months ago."

"But are you well?"

"As much as possible, yes."

"Tes ... " He sighed. "I did not realize at the time that I was causing you to lose control."

"You could not have caused it alone. It was at least as much my doing as it was yours."

"Even so, I believe I have caused you pain."

"No, Silar! Please ... stop. You did not cause this!"

"Still, Tes, I was unaware of the state you were in. I should have been aware."

"What is your need to blame yourself for this?


End file.
